


In My Space

by thedarkestdaisy



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Drabbles, F/M, Republic AU, The rating has gone up!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-25 01:23:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 21,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3791383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedarkestdaisy/pseuds/thedarkestdaisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a certain pull between Sebastian Monroe and Charlotte Matheson. There are certain parallels and there are certain points in time that puts one person in the path of another.</p>
<p>All the important things happen along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Famous last words

**Author's Note:**

> un-beta'd Republic AU drabbles.

When word of a woman claiming the name Rachel shows up on the front steps of where Miles and Bass decided to run the Republic he and Bass bolt from the office and charge down the stairs to find her in the foyer. Behind her are two blonde little kids that completely resemble the babies he'd seen once in his life. The little girl keeps biting her wobbly lip to keep herself from crying and holds onto the hand of her little brother as he sniffles and quietly murmurs words resembling “Daddy” and “Charlie”. Bass stands off to the side watching the morose family reunion, ordering anyone standing close enough to him to prepare a wing and to start running hot water in a few selected rooms. 

Miles pulls Rachel into his arms, knowing there is a damn good reason Ben isn't there with them. He's been searching for the rest of the Matheson clan for years and the only thing he's found is how good they are at keeping themselves hidden. But as Miles takes in Rachel's tired appearance he isn't thinking of asking or forcing her to help build up the Republic into something formidable and scary. He holds her closely, knowing this is what's left of his family. And as he holds her he can feel wet warmth pooling into his shirt and comes to terms with the fact it might become smaller as she drops in his arms. He yells for a doctor and a room and everyone who is within earshot scurries in or away to make sure things get taken care of before everything explodes into chaos.

Bass moves closer to the girl and her little brother. He would know this blonde six year-old girl and the little boy with a snotty nose and dirty cheeks anywhere. Her face crumbles as she watches her mom go unresponsive and Bass can't help but go to her and kneel down to be on her level. His intensity is too much for the boy who cowers behind his big sister, but she stares at him head on, trying to get a hold of her emotions as people in military garb carry her mother upstairs.

“Charlotte, everything will be okay. I will keep you safe, alright?” His left knee pulses with pain from the hardwood flooring but he doesn't let it effect him because he knows, due to the crying and yelling from his brother up the stairs, that he will become a big part in this little girl and little boy's life. He doesn't know how big that part will be but he knows that he will be doing everything in his power to make sure she doesn't experience anything like this night ever again.

Because today will be the last day she will ever see her mother breathing.


	2. Blowing down castles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-beta'd AU drabble

The days following Rachel's death had been completely mind-boggling for Bass. He'd seen Miles turn on crazy at the flip of a switch but he'd never seen Miles go completely out of his mind with anger and sadness. Bass recognizes himself in Miles at this time. The night after Shelly's death comes to mind. Everything reasonable in his head turned off and all he wanted was to take away as many lives as he could, somehow thinking it would equal the precious life that was taken away from him. Bass knows that it never will equal anything but hurt feeling and anger but he does not stop Miles when his friend tells him he going to Baltimore to take care of some business.

Bass spends his days alone, getting reports from the nursemaid on Charlotte and Danny. The two of them can't stop crying long enough to speak. And when he does visit them, to try and coax them out of their grief he just gets cold shoulders and damp eyes. Then he goes downstairs to dine alone, wishing he could find a way into his best friend and the niece and nephew his friend left for him to take care of. In the morning he gets reports not only from Miles but a few commanding officers. The words on the paper paint a picture of rampage. Bass is certain the streets of Baltimore have been painted red with Rachel's name. He feels happy that Miles had an output for his sadness but the descriptions and number of deaths leave him breathless and sick. 

It is that afternoon after he peeks his head into the room Charlotte and Danny share that something shifts. 

He pokes his head in the doorway, trying to catch a glimpse of the two siblings. He finds Danny sitting on the bed flipping through a picture book. Charlotte is sitting cross-legged on the floor, thumbing through little pictures in an old tin lunchbox when he makes eye contact with her. She acknowledges his presence with a rise of her chin and a curious look. This is the most he's gotten out of her in two months. The boy looks up and smiles at him.

“You can stay,” she says so softly he thinks he imagined it. Bass gulps and opens the door fully. She takes in his appearance with his shiny black boots and the straight shoulders of his uniform jacket. Her eyes catch on the glint the light makes on his medals and rank pins. He stands in front of her unsure of himself. Bass has never felt so awkward in his life. That this little girls unwavering gaze can make him so tense is unsettling. She nods to the empty spot of the floor in front of her and he sits down and crosses his legs without instruction. Danny, having lost interest in his book, rolls off the bed and plops himself down next to Charlotte. Eyes never leaving his, she hands her brother a stack of photos and postcards. The four year old flips through them and sets the ones he like out to the side.

“Where did uncle Miles go?” He voice is quiet but it easily cuts through the silence of her room. Bass can make out the tone of worry in her voice. Charlotte knows that the only people she has left in this world are the one who live in this house and one of them has disappeared. 

“To do his job.” Bass tries to sound casual about it, like it's no big deal and not at all dangerous but she has caught on to things quickly. Words that unknowingly slip out of the guards and nursemaid's mouth impacting her already fragile mind. “Don't worry. Your uncle is one of the toughest men I know. He'll be back soon.”

He tries to assure her but he knows he's failed by the tremble in her lips and the water gathering in her eyes. “Okay.” She nods, and he realizes she has put all her faith and trust into his hands.


	3. More and more I can't say no

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-beta'd Republic AU Drabble

Danny goes wherever he wants to in the house with his guards at his heels playing hide-and-seek through out the empty corridors. His is a life of fun and mischief. The staff loves the little boy with shocking blonde hair and pale blue eyes who pulls away from his sister when she tries to reach for her hand. With every pull Charlie feels herself letting go of him too. She convinces herself that he is safe here. That she is safe here too. 

Every morning she goes into the office before breakfast. Miles usually meets Danny downstairs in the dinning room but she always goes to the office to find Bass. The guards give her a little nod and the one at the door greets her good morning and slips a piece of hard candy into her hand as per usual morning routine. He knocks for her and lets her into the room at the soft beckon from the other side of the door.

Bass smiles at her from over his desk as she lingers in the doorway. He motions her to come in and she lets a small smile slip as the guard closes the door behind her. She walks closer towards him, taking in the colored pictures of Danny's that has decorated one part of the wall behind him. A few reports are scattered in front of him and he puts his finger down on one spot as he copies the numbers onto another sheet of paper. He doesn't look very inclined to follow her downstairs this morning.

“Am I going to have to drag you down to breakfast again?” Bass snorts at her mouthiness. Charlie, she informed him to her preference of the nickname over Charlotte, was the only person in the entire world that could mouth off at him without expecting any form of punishment. Miles would usually get the finger and Danny didn't even talk much to him at all. 

“Are you in a hurry to get to class and see that boy?” He teases her and Charlie can't help but blanch. She can never figure out how he finds out all the little aspects that make her up and all the secret thoughts that flow through her mind. He's figured out that she likes reading and collecting pictures of places. Somehow even managed to guess what her favorite color was though she had owned no set of clothing that showcased it. “Yes, I know about the Neville kid.” He looks pleased with himself as he looks down with a toothy grin while making stack of the papers in front of him. However, Charlie grins back just as toothily.

“You're wrong. I don't have a crush on him. He's that one who follows me. Not the other way around. Your information is wrong.” He frowns at her and the smug way she crosses her arms over her chest.

“Seriously?” He asks, looking at her and trying to find the tell signs of a lie. But she never lies so he has no idea what to look for. Instead she shrugs and moves to the side of his desk to impatiently tap her shoe against the floor.

“Seriously. Now lets go.”

As he leaves his seat she walks ahead of them to open the door. Charlie puts her hand behind her, waiting for him. He grabs it and can feel the immediate relaxation soak into his bones as they walk hand in hand downstairs to meet miles and Danny for breakfast.


	4. Get too close to the flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Un-beta'd Republic AU drabble

The grandfather clock in his office chimes nine and Bass and Miles both look over to Charlie with a grin waiting for her reaction. She looks up from her book and glares at the clock. At fourteen she's made numerous attempts to persuade them to let her stay until her actual bedtime. But Bass refuses to let her stay and listen in on conversations regarding what's going on outside of the republic. 

She turns and makes a pleading face at them both, silently begging for them to let her have a few more minutes in their company while they go over the documents Colonel Baker just sent them. Bass looks down with a smirk and goes back to his reading, underling a few things that's makes him frown. Miles looks at her and shakes his head no while pointing to the door. She growls and her mouth twists into an angry line of silence. She slams her book on the coffee table and stomps to Miles' side. She doesn't wait for him to look up and turn in his chair before she drapes her arms around his shoulders and gives him a peck on the cheek. Before she can pull away he wraps and arm around her waists.

“You don't have to go to sleep until ten,” He reminds her. “You just can't stay in here.” His kisses her forehead. She pulls away and looks down at him with a nod. She's upset, but she knows the rules. 

Charlie can feel her body tense as she crosses the room to Bass and his mountain of paper work. There is something odd firing in the nerves of her body whenever she's in close proximity to him and right now she feels like she's on fire. When he looks up and smiles at her approach something tightens in her chest. 

“Is this the part where you tell me goodnight?” He jokes, his blue eyes making her everything else and everyone but him in the room disappear. Bass turns in his chair just as she leans down to wrap her arms around him. She likes that he takes his uniform off in the evening. It makes his hugs so much warmer and… different from any other kind she's had.

She turns her face into his neck and squeezes him tightly enough to feel like she'll walk away with some part of him when she leaves the room. He smells like wool and the fireplace and soap. A heady mixture that leaves her confused and frustrated before she goes to sleep. When she kisses him goodnight it is at the junction of his jaw and the soft lob of his ear. He takes in a deep breath and she pulls back and looks down at her shoes. 

“Goodnight, Bass.” And then she makes her escape without ever looking back to take in the effect she has on him.

Miles watches the entire exchange from his desk with a frown. He knows what a school girl crush is, having been the object of many. But a few nights ago Nora had told him something about how Charlie watched Bass and how odd she thought it was. Nora, always in close contact with Bass and himself was always inclined to spending evenings with them and the two Matheson siblings. And perhaps she's right, because what just took place in front of him was very odd. The look on Bass' face after his niece left was very odd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm preparing myself for the next installment of Where I Belong because I can't say no to you. This is just a way to get the creative juices flowing for the next part. Also to help me get the nerve up to finish something Christmas-y for you guys. ;)


	5. Honey, it's been a long time coming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-beta'd because I'm depressed and I'm pretty sure my soul mate wondered off into traffic and got hit by a bus.

Last year during the annual fundraiser for the troops in the militia Charlie opted to spend the evening in her room while Danny and a few other boys and girls played cards and board games in one of the entertainment rooms (she had no desire to watch little kids actually play truth or dare and poker with their allowance, because that is totally what they were really doing). And being the mischievous Matheson that she is, she decided her time would be well spent spying on the party downstairs as they arrived before heading to bed. She watched everyone come in under the crystal chandelier from the landing above, just close enough that she could see everyone but nobody would see her. Women came in all decked out in make up and fancy cocktail dresses, smelling of perfume and on the arms of big wigs and military officials.

Bass stood off to the side of the entryway with his guards on watch. He wasn't wearing his uniform, but instead a sharply pressed suit that had her frowning at all the attention it was getting him from the women. Just as Colonel Baker was coming up the stairs to her left, probably to send her to her room or escort her to the game room with Danny, she saw a vivacious red-head in a tiny black dress waltz in from the foyer and knock Bass' handshake away to pull him in for a hug and a lingering kiss on the cheek.

“Who is that?” She inquired, taking a step closer to lean over the railing to get a better look at the woman distracting Bass from his host duties. She felt Baker come to her side and look down over the railing by her arm.

“Lot of people coming in through the door, girly. You're going to have to be more specific.” 

“The one that looks like a hussy.” She grits out. He leans further and gives a low whistle as he spots the woman patting President Monroe's shoulder and taking all of his attention.

“That's Duncan Page.”

“I hate her.” Charlie scowls down at the women.

“You don't even know her. How could you possible hate her?” Jeremy laughs and looks down at Charlie, taking in the white-tight grip of her knuckles on the railing, the rigid line of her lips, the reddening of her cheeks, and the stillness of her chest- trying to keep everything in. Before he can analyze her anymore she growls and tears herself away from the railing to stomp back down the hallway to the corridors that lead to the family wing.

“Someone's got a cruuuuush!” He sings out to her retreating figure before smashing his hand to his face and glancing down to make sure nobody heard him. Of course Bass does and looks up to frown at him. Jeremy shrugs his shoulders and slinks away from the overlook.

_____________________________________________

This year Charlie decides to talk Nora into talking her Uncle and Bass into letting her attend the fundraiser. After all, Charlie knows most of the women on the committees that plan the fundraisers and she isn't unaware of what happens after dinner and small talk; a band plays and a bar opens up in the old ballroom, everyone gets drunk off their asses and people leave in the early hours of morning in the back of carriages.

That night after dinner Miles stops her.

“Why do you want to go to the fundraiser?” He asks curiously. Danny looks up from his bowl of chilled fruit and Bass sits up straighter in his chair, both wondering the same thing. Charlie shrugs her shoulders and looks down, she hates being put on the spot. “If I recall correctly you said they were peacock parties and the only thing we do is get drunk and gossip about each other.” she rolls her eyes and puts a hand on a jutted out hip.

“Because I want to be a little girly sometimes. Half of my days are spent in school and the other half is here where you have me practicing swords and archery and combat. I feel like I should be in the barracks with the new recruits. It's just one night in a pretty dress with a bunch of people who probably won't even notice me.” She hoped that when she looked at her uncle he saw her determination. Miles nodded and then looked over to Bass who gave a nearly unnoticeable nod.

“Fine. I'll send for one of the seamstresses. Get a dress and have you all fancy like Cinderella.” She hugs him tightly and kisses his cheek. She darts around the room to peck everyone goodnight before running out into the hallway- they hear her squeal with unbridled joy down the corridor and up the stairs. 

“Charlie never struck me as a girly girl before.” Danny said with a frown in the direction of the door. “Sometimes I forget she is one.”

“Leave her alone, kid. She's growing up.” Bass gently places his cloth napkin on his finished plate and bids everyone a goodnight.

_____________________________________________

Charlie can hear the party in full swing. Everyone has gathered in the large reception hall to dine and she can hear the murmur of the guests as she makes her way downstairs behind Nora. Danny is upstairs playing board games and pigging out on sweets with a few other boys and their guards so she feels completely out of place without him at her side. But thankfully Nora pointed out to Miles that her duty was to Charlie tonight, not as his girlfriend or a commanding officer. Tonight Nora would introduce her to the wives of prominent figure heads, show her off to some of Miles' closest friends, guide her through the diplomatic conversations (if any should arise)- which was unlikely, and keep her tucked away from danger or awkward situations. Really, Charlie couldn't thank the beautiful woman enough. 

Just as they reached the end of the hall that would lead them to the large reception hall Nora put her hand out to stop Charlie from walking into the room and gently turned her so that they could face one another.

“Are you ready to go in?” There was a nervous smile on Nora's face and Charlie finds she hasn't seen that look from Nora very much. Charlie scowls and looks down at her dress. The color of dewy green moss in spring with a super high neck line, something called a boat neck, and it was tea length- according to the dress maker. It went down to her knees and matched the same dyed fabric of the strappy, high-heels on her feet. The dressmaker had told her that she was hired to make something modest and beautiful for her by her uncle. But Charlie knows that a youth without rebellion is just a child and decided to make some alterations to her uncle and the dressmakers idea. It was backless and a long chain with a diamond hung down the length of her spine to draw attention to the curve there. Nora had rolled her eyes but nodded her head in understanding.

“I won't have to talk to anyone will I?” But now as she stood in the hallway with the guards at the door looking at her like a piece of meat she didn't feel so very brave.

“Not if you don't want to. If you feel uncomfortable around anyone just tug on your ear and I'll sweep you away.” Nora looks down at her with a reassuring smile. And then flips the nearest guard a finger until he looks away.

“Okay then. I think I'm ready.” Charlie straightens out her shoulders and Nora runs her hands down her red sheath of a dress before they walk in.

Charlie can immediately hear the murmurs die down momentarily as almost everyone looks up from their conversations at the tables they've been seated at. At the very back of the room she spots her uncle, Bass, and Jeremy. The Colonel is the first one to spot her slowly walking in behind Nora as she takes in all the magnificence of the decorated reception hall. He smiles as he watches her take in all the changes the ladies of the committee have made to the room. Fresh bouquet arrangements are strategically placed throughout the room so that the breeze from the open windows makes the room smell like flowers. The heavy curtains are gone and replaced with shimmery opaque blue drapes. All the chandeliers make the room sparkle with candle-lit rainbows. She takes it all in with awe and Jeremy finds he likes the child-like excitement clearly showing on her face. However she looks nothing like a child tonight so he ribs Miles and Bass to pull them out of their conversations to gesture towards the entrance.

“Wow,” Miles says quietly, the breath taken out of him by her transformation. “Great now I'm going have to scare off every guy that looks at her.”

“Holy shit. Are you sure she's sixteen?” Jeremy can't tear his eyes away from her. She looks nothing like the dirt covered little girl that played with rolly pollies in the garden or the smug teenager who made him cry uncle when she finally learned how to pin him to the ground in combat training last week. The only thing that tells him the young lady at the other end of the room is Charlie is the small wave she gives him before she sits down to join a table of ladies. “You might have to scare me off too.” 

Bass kicks the Colonel under the table and looks away from Charlie before anyone can catch him staring. Jeremy groans in mock pain but keeps his eyes on Charlie, taking note of anyone who gets too close to her. 

He watches her all night out of the corner of his eye. He rubs elbows with sponsors and big wigs, cashing in on their I Owe You's, while she chats up the league of ladies. He can hardly pay attention to what is being spoken in the conversations he's a part of because all he can focus on is the way she laughs too loudly and sways from side to side when she catches a tune the bands play. Nora plays guard dog and stares down any young man brave enough to approach Charlie. He hasn't spoken to her at all and it feels like a travesty he hasn't been able to see her up close yet. 

“I'll be back,” he excuses himself from a conversation between one of the republic engineers, Miles, and a business man who runs a factory that supplies ammunition. Miles is left gawking at him, unsure of how to charm people into giving him whatever he wants like Bass does.

Bass makes his way across the room but is suddenly stopped by a long pale arm. There is only one person he knows who is brave enough to pull a move on him like that in public. He turns to find Duncan looking up at him with a wolfish smile. 

“Why hello there, Mr. President.” She says, pulling herself out if the seat. “Wanna go somewhere and dance with our clothes off?” The warm breath of her whisper against his ear makes him shiver and he smiles down at her with a toothy grin.

“You're an insatiable little slut, aren't you?” He whispers back. She gestures down to her little sleeveless white bandage dress and winks up at him. She runs her hand up the sleeve of his suit and taps on the collar. Something in the back of his head tells him to pull away and look to the side. He feels like he's being watched and his instincts have never led him astray. When he glances to his right he locks eyes with Charlie standing less than twenty feet away. Her lips are in a straight line and her stormy night blue eyes have a hardened look to them; a clear sign of her anger. Bass steps back and makes a move in her direction, completely forgetting about the sexual transaction that was about to be negotiated. She turns away and starts for the exit, pushing pass people with mumbled apologies. 

Charlie makes it to the exit before Bass can reach her. Standing in the hallway of the grand entryway he looks left and right. He stands still, listening to himself try to catch his breath or to try to catch the sound of her, but everything is quiet. Bass looks to one of the guards at the door.

“Where did she go?” He demands.

“She had Officer Petty escort her to her rooms, sir.” Bass is off down the hallway and flying up the stairs before the guard can even finish his sentence. He jogs the length of the hallway, passing the torches and the guards stationed at the corners. When he arrives at her door he's relieved to see the light on underneath the crack. He bends over with his hands on his knees trying to figure out why he just chased this teenager up a flight of stairs and down a corridor. It couldn't have just been that look she gave him downstairs.

Or maybe it could be. He's never felt so great a need to tear himself away from another person as he did in that moment in the reception hall. He had also never felt such a hot, heavy ball of metal make a home in his stomach from any of her looks before. Or the need to explain to her that it was nothing, just flirting- which actually could have led to something if he wanted it to. Now all he wants to do is to tell her not to worry about it, only he has no idea why.

Decision made he chances a knock on the door before trying the knob and letting himself in, knowing she would turn him away if he gave her the second to. Charlie's sitting on the farthest side of the bed looking out the window into the dark night. The bejeweled pins that held back her hair are thrown haphazardly on the bed and her hair is a cascade of honey waves down her ramrod straight back. He catches the glint of the silver chain running down the uncovered expanse of her back and gets the terrible desire to follow it with his tongue. 

“Go away. I don't want to see you right now.” The sound of her voice is wobbly and the jump in her shoulders tells him she's trying to refrain from yelling or crying or some sort of reaction that will tell him what to do. He walks into the room and closes the door softly behind him. Sitting on the bed he faces away from her and takes a hairpin from the bedspread and rolls it between his index finger and thumb. “I said go-”

“I was going to tell you that you look beautiful tonight.” He speaks quietly, hoping she'll hear him and he won't have to repeat it.

“Yeah, I'm just sure you tell every pretty little thing who hangs off your arm that.” His eyebrows raise when he hears the scoff she emits with a slight tone of jealously. 

“That's not true.” He grins as he catches sight of the stuffed rabbit he gave her on her birthday when she turned seven. “You haven't hung off my arm yet.” Her quick intake of breath makes him analyze his words and he wants to slap himself in the face. This is flirting. He knows he shouldn't be doing anything of the sort with her. He has to get out of here. 

“Goodnight Charlotte.” He pats the bunny on the head once and places his hands on the bed ready to push himself up when he feels her slide her hand over his. She scoots across the bed to close the gap, the hem of her dress crawling up her thighs and making his throat dry. Her breasts brush against his shoulder as she leans over to give him a kiss on the cheek.

But then his hand tangles into the hair at the nape of her neck and she moves her lips just an inch to the left of his face to kiss the corner of his lips. Just as a warm, soft hand slides up the length of his jaw his senses come back to him and he pushes her away and jumps off the bed. He doesn't look behind him when he reaches the door.

“That… won't ever happen again.” And then he's out the door in a flash, not waiting for a response. 

It isn't until he makes his way to his room, one flight above hers, that he realizes he's still holding on to the bejeweled pin that held her hair up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapter are suppose to be less than 700 words....but my brain doesn't know how to follow directions.


	6. How is your heart, little darling?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta'd.  
> Republic AU Drabble

Charlie and Danny are walking down the fabulously polished white granite staircase on the way to dinner. For the past few weeks he's been doing everything in he can think of to make her laugh. Which means he can visibly see the change in her. She sighs as she trails her hands down the intricately carved wood of the railing. And here she thought she was hiding her disappointment so well. 

When they reach the landing a silver sequin from last months fundraiser makes her almost trip on air. It flickers in the firelight of the sconce just a few feet away. She feels a tightening in her chest but refuses to acknowledge it. Ever since that evening Bass has been avoiding her. At night when she goes into his and her uncles' joint office he's retired to bed or gone to speak with a few commanding officers- or so Miles tells her. God, she hasn't even been able to focus in any of her classes and Jeremy and Nora have been kicking her ass and swatting her down like a fly in training. Nothing can take her mind off of Bass. The pressure of his hands, the smell of his cologne, the taste of his cheek underneath her lips, the challenging smile he used to make her do anything he wanted- it would lead up to nothing. The worst past is that she's sure he's put all of it out of his mind. That what happened on her bed doesn't even affect him in the slightest.

When the guard at the doors to the dinning room grants her and Danny entrance her heart stops. There he is in wool and leather uniform, sipping on a glass of wine. She hasn't shared a meal with him in ages. Opting to work on her papers to get her out of classes earlier than others in her class, she requested to have dinner sent to her room. He hasn't shown up to any of the meals either though- always busy with the militia and that one time Miles made her sick telling her that he was on a date. But as her heart stops at the sight of him she slowly comes to the conclusion it is also breaking. There at his right side, in her usual spot, is the red-headed hussy from the ball. As Danny pushes past her to the table he flashes her a look of confusion. 

The hussy- Duncan, if she remembers correctly, notices her first. The hand the woman has on Bass' arm squeezes momentarily and Charlie can feel the blood in her veins heat itself with hatred. The night after her almost-make out with Bass she made it her duty to find out who this Duncan was. Duncan gives her a spoiled smile that clearly reads “look at what I have and you do not”. Just as the glare on her face comes to fruition she can hear her uncle at Bass' left clear his throat and pull a chair out for her at his side. Bass finally notices her and sputters on the wine. She takes satisfaction in the fact that she startled him enough to nearly choke on his drink to the point he has to wipe a droplet of it from his chin. Duncan gives him a throaty laugh that makes Danny stare at her with fascination. She catches it and throws him a wink that makes him look down to his lap.

Even though her uncle is sitting between them and there are others in the room she can't help but stare at Bass. This is the longest they've been in each others presence in about a month. There are so many things she wants to say to him, so many questions she wants to ask him. The urge to pull him out of the room and manually place his hard and warm arms around her is overwhelming. 

He seems to know that if he looks at her then something will happen, so he avoids her gaze. He can feel it but he pretends it doesn't exist. And as hard as it is he forces himself to pretend that she doesn't exist too. The only reason he came to dinner was because Duncan invited herself and because Miles told him Charlie had been studying to graduate earlier. Now, with her sitting so close and watching Duncan hang onto his arm in a vice-like grip he feels sick to his stomach. Bass knows the sight of it is making her sick, because that's how he felt when he was younger and he saw his crush hanging themselves all over losers at the mall. But he got over it- that's what you do with crushes, you get over them. And Charlie will get over him too. But right now he feels like his bones are made of quivering butterflies and the temperature of the room is set on Sahara Desert. this is what Charlie does to him and he has to figure out a way to get over it too. Duncan seemed as good a distraction as anything else.

Just as the dishes in front of them are being filled with food by the servers Duncan leans over to whisper something about the "blonde girl" in his ear. Charlie watches it all with a crumbled face, as if someone took a perfectly flat piece of paper and rolled it into a ball of lines and creases. Every part of her brain is telling her to jump across the table and rip Duncan away from Bass because she is touching something that is not hers. But Bass has made it apparently clear that he is not hers either and so she sits and watches it all until it becomes too much. Her head feels dizzy and her body feels like if she stands up the world will spin until it knocks her over so she just stares at her food on the plate in front of her. 

They are all talking about Danny's high academic level but low skills with anything combat or military related, it earns a few laughs and comments around the table. But then Danny turns their attention to Charlie. He praises her scholarly endeavors, saying he actually has to work hard to keep up with her and that few in her class could ever surpass her grades. Miles calls her a teachers' pet and everyone laughs. She tries to pull the corners of her lips into a smile but it just turns into a grimace. Then Danny tells Duncan how awesome she is at close combat and special weapons. 

Duncan turns a critical gaze to the teen as she pokes at the stuffed pheasant on her plate. “You're much more interesting than I first thought. Tell me, Miles, how do you keep the boys off of her?”

“Charlie doesn't like boys.” Danny says around a mouth of seasoned stuffing. That actually has everyone dropping their silverware to turn a quizzical look at her. Bass shifts uncomfortably in his chair, Duncan's eyes light up with intrigue, and Miles chokes on his bite of food. Danny realizes his mistake in an instant. “No no no. Charlie isn't in to girls. I think?” He asks her with a frown and she tilts her head at him before he continues. “No I mean Charlie doesn't like the boys at school. All she cares about _is_ school. She's already taking advanced classes with the militia tutors about diplomacy. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if she ends up taking over Bass' spot when he keels over.” Danny laughs.

“I'm sure there will be a First Lady by then to handle everything,” Duncan says tactfully to Bass. Charlie frowns and bites her tongue at the suggestive look the woman gives him. She just can't bite it hard enough though.

“What? You think you could actually run the republic if something were to put Bass out for a while?” Charlie scoffs. “I know exactly who you are. You're a liaison between the republic and the war-clans that surround our boundaries. And yes, I know about the treaties you've personally had a hand in creating but you've pissed off more people than you've made friends with. One day that will bite you in the ass and if you think you can protect the citizens against those people with the kind of reputation you have and the kind of enemies you've made than you are completely wrong.” 

Duncan bristles in her chair as the room goes silent. Bass isn't sure where to look, his eyes darting between the two women. Duncan has a twisted smile on her face, the kind she gets when she's caught on to something that everyone else has overlooked. Her hands are fisting the pristine white table cloth between her fingers. She isn't making any sudden moves but the threat level is there. 

“Let me guess. You think you could do better?” Duncan's words come off as more than teasing. They come off as a challenge. 

Bass' eyes finally slide to Charlie beside his brother. He assesses her and whether or not he's going to have to have Miles remove her from the table. She is the most formidable seventeen year old he's ever met. Not a twitch in her muscles to give away the intensity of the situation, nothing but smooth tanned skin and chill inducing blue eyes. Her hair that was managed into soft waves to the side of her face has become tangles of curls like a lions' mane. The extremely straight posture of her back throws him off for a second until he realizes that the furrow of her brows and the biting of her already plump bitten lip indicates she's trying not to say something that will cause trouble. But his Charlotte- the Charlie he has come to know and love- has never been one to bite her tongue for long.

In swift and silent movements Charlie pulls her napkin off her lap and throws it on her untouched meal. The chair screeches as her legs push it out from behind her and she looks down at Duncan across the table as if the lady were a small stupid child instead of one of the most feared women this side of the country.

Charlie puts her hands out and leans over the table menacingly and with slow accuracy says, "I could do a hell of a lot better than you could ever try to.” Making sure everyone in the room understands her. Beside her Miles' eyebrows jump to the top of his forehead, the chick fight in front of him becoming more and more real by the moment.

“Doubt it.” Duncan bites back quickly. “But the question is: would you want to be First Lady to help run the country or because of the _man_ running the country?”

The nearly indecipherable jump in Charlie's chest tells Duncan everything she wants to know. She throws up a winning smile, taking pleasure in the facts she's quickly recovered from just the quick intake of air from the girl- nearly turned woman- in front of her.

The woman's word are like a slap to the face and Charlie steps back, bumping into her chair. Her eyes collide with Bass' without meaning to. He looks struck. His mouth is open and she can't interpret whether his drawn in brows means confusion or anger or shock. Either way there is a question in his pale blue eyes that she wants more than anything to answer, but this isn't their time and she is smart enough to know that she shouldn't start anything else tonight. She swipes a lock of hair behind her ear and turns away from the table with an emotionally exhausted sigh. She makes her retreat to the door and on the way out she hears that spiteful bitch's voice hit her like a ton of bricks.

“Guess that answers my question.” 

Only when the dining room doors close behind her does she pull in a shakey breath and try not to cry the rest of the way to her room upstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of you guessed correctly about Duncan. Now can you guess what Charlie is going to be doing soon?  
> Here's a hint: Bass and Miles will lose their shit.
> 
> Also... I think I may be writing a retired Boyband Fic starring Bass, Miles, Jeremy, & Strauser. Yeah?


	7. Without you is how I disapear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Republic AU Drabble

It's eight in the morning and Bass is sitting in the joint office going over reports from a colonel investigating the sudden attack on a few villages surrounding the boundary of the republic. It could easily be overlooked as a war-clan just getting their kicks off on pain as usual. The death and damage wasn't even done to his own towns- but something about the recent number of attacks on the towns make him worry for his people that live near there.

The door swings open and Miles saunters in, dropping at his desk and never taking his eyes off Bass but noticing the full mug of coffe and the uneaten buttered toast on a plate at his side. “Oh look, you're eating alone again. What a surprise. Wanna know who else ate alone this morning? Danny and I- because Charlie refuses to come to meals now.” Bass can hear the passive aggressive tone in Miles voice but decides it's too early to snap.

“If you and Danny were both downstairs eating together than I would assume you were not eating alone.” He says slowly while penning a letter to the colonel with instructions to wait out another week on base and report any other suspicious activity. 

“It was her eighteenth birthday last night. She wouldn't even leave her room.” Bass looks up from his commands and takes in the defeated form of his best friend. “I thought I'd at least get to see her this morning. I don't know what's going on and she won't talk to me about it. You wouldn't know anything about this, would you?” The soil-brown color of Miles eyes bare into him and for a second he thinks he's about to tell Miles everything he thinks about Charlie. 

That he does his best not to lead her on. That dinner with Duncan last week made him feel a little bit hopeful until he realized that even if Charlie did want him she probably wouldn't want him in a few years- he's twenty three years older than her. That he thought she might make a good first Lady because he's been keeping tabs on what she's been learning and diplomacy is becoming her strong suit. That sometimes when he goes to bed he feels pissed off with not requesting a blonde haired, blue eyed working girl but also pleased with himself for not giving in to one. That he knows his standoffish attitude is probably hurting her. That he's received multiple reports of crying from the men who stand guard near her door. That he doesn't do anything that relates to her anymore because Charlie deserves and good guy without baggage or constant death threats. That her birthday gift is stashed into the drawer at his thigh next to his revolver, but he'll probably never find a way of giving it to her. 

He is struck from his thoughts however when the door bangs open and his hands reach to the drawer with the revolver. It's just Jeremy though so he sits back. Until he looks at the man's face. Jeremy looks like he's going to be sick and he can't seem to find a comfortable way to stand so he looks like he has to pee very badly. 

“At ease, Jer.” Bass says worriedly. Even Miles is sitting straight in his chair, aware of the tension coming off in waves from the man. “What's wrong?”

“You'll never believe who just enlisted.” Jeremy hands the official record to Miles and the man sits back in his chair with a hand over his mouth, reading the same line over and over again. “I can't technically say no. I came to you before deciding upon any action. But you should know, she told the recruitment officer that she's been thinking about this for a while now- and I gotta say she kicked my specialized units ass in training the other day. We could probably utilize her.”

“I can't.” Bass' voice cracks. He built the republic to protect people. Not so that the people he loved could risk their lives protecting others. “I can't let her do this. Reject her Jeremy. I can't let her go off into whatever is about to happen. I can't risk the chance of losing her.” Miles looks at him with a frown from his desk, watching him ever so carefully.

“I think you should do it.” Nora leans against the doorway, breaking everyone out of their shocked reverie.

“Are you insane? She'll get herself killed out there!” Bass can't hold back the anger in his voice. Anger at Charlie for this stupid idea, anger at Nora for thinking this is a good idea, anger at himself for knowing in this moment Charlie is pulling away from him and going to drastic lengths to do it.

Nora sighs and looks at the paper in Miles' hands. He squeezes it into a ball so tightly she imagines the words dripping off the page like pulp and juice being compressed from an orange. “Jeremy wasn't over-exaggerating when he said she took down his platoon. That's eight men trained to specialize in close combat, surveillance, and weapons. I don't think-” She pauses and bites her lips searching for the right words. “I think this is more than not wanting to be here right now. I think she knows she can do more than work on committees and decorate for fundraisers and charities. She wants more than academics and pretty dresses. She wants to make a difference… and I believe in her. If you allow it then I will work with her. She already knows everything the new recruits are learning. Charlie is ready and I will follow her where ever she is sent. You have my word that she will be safe.”

“No, if she goes anywhere I want her on my platoon. I could keep an eye on her too,” Jeremy offers. “She might actually be good at this.” 

Jesus Christ. Bass puts his head in his hands and leans back in his chair with his eyes closed. More and more Charlie proves to be something of an enigma. Just when he thinks there's a small amount of peace from her, she blows up his little world. 

“Fine,” the soft voice of Miles makes him look up.

“You're kidding me. No- you can't let her traipse off into the sunset with Jeremy's platoon. I'm sending him out to the boundaries to scare off the war-clans who revoked the idea of treaties. She's gonna die, Miles!” Bass chair falls to the floor after he stands abruptly to come to the other side of Miles' desk effectively blocking out Jeremy and Nora from sight.

“There are a lot of problems I have with that sentence.” Jeremy quips behind him. Bass blindly reaches behind himself until he can feel a face and then holds his hands over Jeremy's mouth. “Don't you fucking sign that paper,” he threatens Miles as the man lays the crumbled paper on his desk and flattens it out with the palm of his hand. 

Miles signs it.

“This will be good for her. Besides, I could never see her as a Stepford Wife anyways.” Miles says to himself, more than anyone in the room.

Bass draws back. There is no possible way he can revoke the document. This is actually happening. Before he can even think about his next move he turns around to pull back a fist and nearly knocks Jeremy out of the chair. The blonde man holds his jaw, not entirely mad because he knew the second he saw her signature on the documet that someone would be getting it in the face. He looks up as Bass leans over him and with the deadliest tone whispers hotly into his face.

“If anything happens to her I will have you killed Jeremy. I'm not even kidding right now.” His eyes flash up to Nora at the doorway. “You too Nora. She better not get a single fucking scratch.”

Then he leans back and takes a swipe at all the papers and trinkets on Miles' desk- papers fall to the floor like feathers and a World Series baseball detaches from it's mount, rolling to the other side of the room, a tin model of a Chevrolet Bel Air clatters to the linoleum. Then he turns to the pole proudly showcasing the Monroe Republic flag. He kicks it down and doesn't spare a look behind him as it falls in navy and blue waves. Then he stalks into the sitting area and flips over the coffee table with one hand; the tray of toast, butter, sliced fruits, and the carafe of coffee all fall to the red Persian rug as the dishes clatter and upon each other and break. It isn't until he leaves them with a growl and a slam of the door on the other side of the office that the three look at each other.

“Maybe this separation will be good for him too. You know what they say- distance makes the heart grow fonder.” Jeremy says sloppily as he holds his jaw, taking stock of the mess Bass has left behind.

“The plan was to make them lose interest in each other. Duncan obviously failed her part,” Miles says sarcastically. His finger rubs the jut of his chin, a normal act for him on the battlefield while he schemes. “Hopefully distance will put emotional distance between them as well. She needs to get out of this place for a while, away from him- and I know you two will keep her safe. I also know she's a natural, but if anything does happen to her I won't hesitate to kill the both of you either.”

Jeremy and Nora flash each other a worried look but still nod to Miles in understanding, both promising themselves to keep her alive no matter the cost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't tell if I like Miles or not... and I'm the one writing his character.  
> Sigh.


	8. I can feel it in my bones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Republic AU Drabble

Charlie is lying awake tonight. The two other women in the room are fast asleep but her brain can't seem to turn itself off just yet. She's leaving tomorrow- well, technically today- right after breakfast. According to uncle Miles and Colonel Baker she'll be gone for six months. Her priority will be to help gather intelligence on the war-clans and make sure they don't push too far in the boundaries of the Republic should a battle arise. She knows she can do it- Nora and Jeremy will be there to help guide her. 

She is pretty sure that Jeremy's entire platoon of men are under strict orders to keep her safe. Which is down right stupid. She handed half of them their asses on a silver platter in training. According to her uncle she's a natural when it comes to stealth and finding her opponent's weakness. Charlie supposes this is true. At times when she watches Danny she compares him to herself. Danny of the fair hair and devastatingly blue eyes does not ever raise his voice or think about danger. She supposes she could be like that too, if she really wanted to. It would be easy to fall into the role of a debutante. Most of the women on the militia committees have tried several times to take her under their wings. Tried to turn her into a doll with the steady poise of a crane and beautified to the point she thought she was looking in the mirror at one of the porcelain babies the little girls in town carried. 

But instead somewhere along the way she developed a head for strategies. Learned how to correctly make a manageable bomb under the supervision of Nora. Correctly learned how to take down a man two hundred pounds bigger than herself with only the simple gift of weight distribution from Jeremy. Had the words “You, not them.” drilled over and over in her head by her uncle to the point that she doesn't even need to hear it anymore. Training with Jeremy's men taught her more than just war tactics and what to listen and look for. She's learned purpose and loyalty. There isn't a thing that the men in the platoon wouldn't do for her. But there isn't a thing she wouldn't do for them either.

And when it's over she'll come back to Liberty Hall. She'll come back to her uncle, Danny, and Bass. And hopefully looking at him won't hurt anymore. Or as much. 

Charlie sighs and rolls over onto her stomach. There's no way that will ever happen. That man has ingrained himself into her very being with just a few smiles and the brush of his hand. Her eyes get heavier with the thought of him looming over her, telling her he loves her. She sleeps with dreams of his smile and his carefree laughter and his hands trailing along the soft curves of her body. 

When morning comes she awakes at the sound of the bugle. The other women she shares her quarters with greet her good morning as they get dressed. They tell her good-bye and kiss her cheeks, wishing her good luck on the field and a safe return home. The uniform makes her feel official. The standard regulation sword and gun makes her feel deadly. Charlie traces the M insignia at her collar and she can already tell it's going to become a habit. Some girls twirl their hair or chew their nails. She traces the symbol of his legacy with her fingernail. 

Charlie is brought out of her thoughts by Nora. She stands at the door in the same uniform, only she has the added ranks of a Lieutenant Colonel. Nora has always been beautiful but now she looks dangerous and beautiful. As a girl Charlie always looked up to Nora- the only woman that hung around long enough to be considered family and something like a role model. Looking at her now Nora looks nothing like the carefree explosives expert that taught her how to tear a part a gun and create a small concealable weapon. Right now Nora looks like a woman who commands men to do whatever she wants and they listen without question. But then Nora smiles down at her and tucks a strand of hair she missed when pulling it up. This is the same woman who gave her a finely carved bow for her tenth birthday.

“We'll have breakfast in the dining hall and then we'll be going.” 

“Okay." Charlie nods. "The sooner we head out the better.”

Charlie misses the frown that mars Nora's face as she turns to lead them down the hall and out of the building. She also misses the tell of Nora's that shows she feels guilty about something. If Charlie were to turn around right now and see the twist of her lips Nora would probably be stuck trying to find something to say other than “Your uncle thinks you and Monroe are getting too close so he's trying to pull you apart by putting hundreds of miles between you but I don't think that's going to work at all because I think you two were destined for each other since the world began spinning.”

But instead Nora keeps her mouth closed.

Breakfast is a quiet and tense occasion. She sits in her spot, just off the side of Bass and across from her uncle. Danny has moved his chair to be seated next to her. Nora takes his spot beside Miles and Charlie doesn't miss the special attention Miles pays her.

Sausage, blueberry muffins, freshly cut fruits, toast, assorted jams, tea, and coffee litter the table. She eats slowly savoring the flavors and the aroma of it all. Danny holds her hand under the table and it breaks her heart just a little bit. The entire time she'd been training he'd said nothing. When she told him she was going to be leaving for the border with Jeremy's platoon he said nothing. It's a very Matheson trait; to hold all of one's feelings in until the very last second or until your entire body implodes with your troubles, whatever those troubles may be. She notices that he doesn't eat much as he is usually the one piling food in his face before he can take a breath. She focuses her attention on him, offering him plates of food and joking with him until she can crack a smile out of the young man. Charlie focuses on Danny because the only alternative is to sit there and focus on not focusing on Bass. 

Which is hard because for a man who seems uninterested in her he can't seem to tear his gaze away from her. Every time she looks up to answer Miles she catches Bass in her peripheral view. His plate is full and his coffee sits at his right side untouched. He watches her and does nearly nothing else except breathe and shift around in his chair. It puts every molecule in her body on edge. She has grown to know exactly where he is in proximity to her but having him here so close and knowing she won't see him for half a year drives her insane.

She wonders if he'll find someone while she's gone. Oh God, if he does she prays it's anyone but that red headed bitch of siren. Or, and she considers this alternative with a small rueful smile, he'll be too caught up in work to even notice anyone or thing outside of his desk and bed. 

Everyone finishes their meal. Danny gets up first and pulls her out of her chair for a lung crushing hug. He's taller by two inches but at this time she is reminded of the little boy who would not let go of her hand. He kisses her cheek and whispers in her ear his love for her. When she steps away to look up at him his eyes betray him. There is wetness there and she forces herself to look away before it forms into a tear. 

She rounds the table to where Nora has just kissed her uncle good-bye. She nods to Bass and tells Charlie to meet her at the stables before slipping out of the room.

Miles grabs on to her shoulders and takes a step back to look down at her. He smiles and pulls her close to tuck her into his form. “You're gonna do great Charlie. Remember everything I taught you. I know you can do this- it's in your blood.” He kisses the top of her head and she can feel the clean shaven jut of his chin against her forehead. “Keep the stupid to a minimum.”

“I'll try.” It comes out in a whisper, not the firm, assuring tone she wanted to speak with.

And then she turns to look back at Bass. He's still in his chair, to anyone else he would look bored with his surroundings but she knows he's tense. He runs his index finger over the seam of his lips. It takes her a moment to knock reality back into her head and to stop following the trail his finger leads along the curve of his mouth. She gives him a cordial nod, the kind he receives from his soldiers. He frowns at her and looks down.

She knows a dismissive when she sees one. That pain in her chest is probably just heartburn from the meal, not heartache. Actually that's not convincing at all, he really is just going to let her leave without so much as a good-bye. Her chest quivers as it struggles to take in a pained breath.

With one smile back to Danny she leaves and makes her way out to the hall. The clop clop her boots make on the polished wood put her at ease. The sound is familiar and she loses herself in the tone as she picks up her pace, eager to be on the road and away from the place that gives her heartache- heartburn, whatever.

Charlie doesn't notice the extra set of footfalls until they are right behind her. When she whips around to give the person who snuck up on her a piece of her mind the words get stuck in her throat because he is there. So close to the point she can feel his warmth and she has to crane her neck to look up at him. She doesn't know what to say or do. Her body calls out to him- begging him to say something or touch her, to let her know he'll miss her as much as she'll miss him. 

Then he anchors her head in place with his hands and brushes his lips against hers. His scent of soap and his freshly laundered uniform lights a match in her belly. It feels like a wildfire enveloping her entire body from the tips of her toes to the ends of the hairs on her head. She's seen fireworks before, she's seen explosions and she thinks whatever she is feeling right now is bigger, more destructive and infinitely brighter- and he must feel it too. He loops an arm around her back and pulls her closer. Their pins and medals clash and bite into her skin through her uniform. He tilts her head just so and takes her bottom lip in his mouth to pull hers apart. She reaches up and runs her fingers through the short curls on the back of his head, just like she dreamed of doing a thousand times over. His tongue gently pokes and sensuously slides across hers. He runs the invasive organ along the line of her teeth and she tastes his warmth and hunger. She has know idea how he does it but he manages to rip a moan out of her throat. Bass kisses her one more time- chastely on the lips and steps back to look down at her.

Charlie can tell her lips are red and swollen, she can feel her pulse in them. The light in the hallway is dim but she's knows that it's just her mind finally focusing everything on him. 

His blue irises are hidden by the blown out pupils of his eyes. They bore into her and she finds that she can't look away from him. Erratic breathing forces the rise and fall of his sturdy chest. His tongue slips out of his own slightly reddened mouth to swipe along his lower lip to taste what she left behind. She's shocked to find that this is it. This is how she affects him.

“What was that for?” Charlie is surprised to find her voice is hoarse and small. He pulls a small box out of his pocket and slips it into one of her hands, only letting go when he's sure she has a firm grasp on it. Which is a small feat in itself, every part of her being feels like its made of melting butter.

“So you have a reason to come back.” He says softly, his fingers clasp around the back of her neck and his thumb rubs the line along her jaw. Bass looks worried, she knows because the two little lines between his eyebrows are easily spotted and his lips are thinned into a tight line. “You do everything in your power to make it back to me, Charlotte.” 

It sounds like a warning. 

“Okay.” The word sounds insignificant and stupid to her. Especially after he just shattered her world and rebuilt it within a matter of seconds.

He leans down and she forgets to close her eyes when he brushes his lips against hers one last time. And then he walks away, leaving her with everything and nothing at all. 

Her body goes on auto-pilot, carrying her to the stables. Nora and Jeremy are there along with Jeremy's platoon of nineteen men. Her horse is saddled and packed with the equipment she needs on hand. Her bow is fastened to the back of the saddle.

“Are you okay?” Jeremy looks down at her with a quirk of his blonde brow. “You look like you just ferociously made... out... with someone.” The Colonel shakes his head in disbelief at his own words before laughing at himself. “Never mind. It's safer for me if I don't know. Saddle up, kid. We're riding out now.” He turns his horse and bolts through the platoon of men with a very in character "YEEEHAAAAW!" The men look at each other with grins and take off after him and then the wagons start to follow. 

“What do you have there?” Nora asks as she ascends her own horse.

Oh, right.

Charlie quickly opens the box firmly clasped in her hand. A small slip of paper with the words HAPPY BIRTHDAY written in his elegant scrawl cover a bed of lose cotton on which lies a bejeweled hair pin. The stones are dewy moss green like the dress she wore the night of the fundraiser. It makes her heart race knowing he thinks back on that night with something other than the complete confusion they left each other in. A smile tugs at the corner of her lips as she slips the box into a deep pocket in her uniform.

“Nothing. Just a bribe to come back.” Charlie mounts her horse with a grin and takes off after Jeremy, leaving Nora in the dust.

If Charlie looked back she would see the knowing smirk gracing the other woman's face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of you guessed correctly about Charlie's plan. The next chapter will be very special because my baby sister overheard me complaining about writer's block to my brother and then fixed it. She had an excellent idea- except she wanted nearly everyone to die. I don't think I'm evil enough to write that.  
> Next time we'll see how Charlie, Nora, and Jeremy fare on the border. Get your tissues, kiddos. This won't be pretty.


	9. I have crossed the line

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm too happy to write this.

Every morning and night to and from his rooms on the third story he stops at the second story and slowly walks by her room to contemplate her door. It becomes an enigma to him. He finds a lot of his time before breakfast and bed is spent staring at the rich oak swirls of grain in the wood that opens to her room. This door is the very door he poked his head in to quiet his curiosity and pity of the Matheson children. It is a door he heard the trickle of late night laughter bubble from beyond. The door he spotted candlelight seeping from underneath the crack as she griped about her studies and heard the floorboards creak as she paced herself into a fury over a small miscalculation. It is the door that he slammed on her and her heart before she could ensnare his own. It is the door that failed miserably at it's job to veil the heavy cries and sniffles of a young, baffled mind and a broken heart. Sometimes when he walks by the door he swears he can hear her walking about the room or smell the soap she bathes with. Bass will never open that door- not while she is gone. He knows that if he chances it and steps inside her shelter he will never leave. His need to slip into and breathe in her soft sheets has almost overcome him several sleepless nights, thinking if he could just have a piece of her he might get some peace of mind that the reports aren't giving him.

He'll be the first to admit it- he didn't think she was cut out for a life of a soldier. Traveling in the company of Jeremy's platoon might be a bit more cushy but she would still have to rough it and apparently she was having no troubles- according to Miles. The tip that Duncan had provocatively whispered in his ear regarding war-clans and anti-miltia supporters was a good lead. Jeremy's platoon had to sneak pass two large war-clans before they'd even made it to the edge of the Monroe boundary line. They camped out just beneath the clans' noses. Monroe didn't want to make the order to stay close and watch, his pen had shaken as he wrote it, but it was what Jeremy was there for.

He felt like he was hanging on his last thread. Who sends the one they love directly into danger? It wasn't as if he could tell Miles to have Nora drag her back because he might need her in order to sleep at night. Miles doesn't even look perturbed at all when a report comes back several weeks later stating they'd been attacked. Notes state that she, Nora and Jeremy had split up. Charlie and Nora had retreated while Jeremy and the majority of his platoon fought to corral the madness behind the Monroe boundary. When Jeremy and his men were on their last leg she and the men in her group climbed trees and started taking potshots at the enemy. It was absolutely the most crazy thing he'd ever heard of. Who fucking climbs trees and snipes out opponents now a days? Charlie does. Reports by many claim she took the initiative to commandeer the men in her group and made a desiccation to strategically outmaneuver the clan by taking every man out one by one. 

And it worked.

The other clan in the area backed off too, creeping into the night out of his territory and off into the darkness of the Plains Nation. For months restless and deadly clans on his border moved away and squatted somewhere far enough away from his citizens that he felt a small bout of pride for her. Miles had laughed one morning over the reports and called it the Infamous Matheson Dumb Luck and Stupidity. Which was obvious by now- he'd seen that magic several times when he'd been sure that he and Miles were definitely about to breathe their last breath. Of course she would have it. However he knew one must be reckless enough to obtain it. And she was. Months of pouring over Jeremy and Nora's reports and actions, combing through them for her name, led him to the fact that she was adored by many, insanely adept on the front, a quick strategist, and someone many of the men turned to for leadership. It had Miles walking around like a proud father and Danny constantly reassuring himself of her safety. He finds himself slipping into a state of constant anxiety. More weeks and then more months go by and he is quickly coming to learn that she does whatever it takes to keep his citizens and the men in the platoon safe. 

He is in his office lounging back in his chair thinking of her one afternoon. The sun reminds him of all the times she'd dragged Danny outside for fresh air, always claiming it would be good for him. They'd come back later in the day soaked in sweat and covered in dust. The sight of her breathing heavy and complaining about the itchiness of grass on her skin made him grin with nostalgia. The older she got the less the grin was one of nostalgia and one of chest tightening confusion. He'd learned to grin and bear it early. The few mornings she'd show up for breakfast with puffy eyes and he'd thought only that her window was open and the latest rainfall might have stirred her allergies. Bass has always known Charlie to never be allergic to anything but it was easier to blame the pollen than his own charming grins and odd goodnight kisses that turned her into a self-loathing insecure young woman. 

God, he'd really fucked her up. 

He recalls one instance when she was fifteen. He and Miles were messing around with a few of the new recruits- the ones who had a harder time fitting in but seemed somehow very special to Miles. Bass would follow him to the barracks and they would train the men one on one. It had become tradition early on in their reign. Find the most promising and troubled, take them under their wings, and build them up to become better men. It had worked too; Jeremy Baker was living proof. As children Charlie and Danny followed them where ever they went- making rounds and training was no exception. Her eyes would widen every time he swiped Miles' feet from under him and the toothy grin he shot her made her laugh. Charlie would scrunch her sun-freckled nose in distaste when the men around her pulled their shirts off over-heated bodies and held each other down to rub the filthy clothes in each others faces. Except the one time Bass set his holy blue hues on her. He'd taken his shirt off and began to approach Danny in the hopes of including him in good old fashioned male bonding but while he looked disgusted and disinterested Charlie stared at him head on until he was a foot away from her. The second her eyes darted down to his chest her lips parted and her brow folded. When he took the misdirection to knock her off her feet she let out a gasp as the wind got knocked out of her. He was leaning down and readying to say something snarky about never letting the enemy get too close or let one's guard down but then he really got a good look at her. She was sprawled out on the ground beneath his legs, hair a complete beautiful mess of waves that was made to have fingers raked through and blown out eyes that looked entirely too sated to belong to such a pensive form. Charlie looked like the girls in his bed- only a thousand times better and a thousand times more wrong. 

He is thinking of her staring up at beneath him when Miles and one of his harried looking aides comes into the room. Bass' heart jumps to his throat at the look of pain in Miles' eyes.

“Miles?” His throat feels like it's closing. Is this going to be it? His worst nightmare come to life? There is a numbing tingle that surges through his bones to keep him still and strung out like a wire ready to snap.

Miles paces in front of his desk briefly before coming to a halt and looking down at Bass. His mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for air in its' final moments of clarity. He frowns and brings his hands up to palm his forehead and run his fingers back through unkept hair. Bass watches him, unprepared for the disaster about to unfold. Miles' chest pulls and pushes air out quick like a machine, the spectacle terrifies both Bass and the aide who watches from the corner of the room.

“There was an ambush while they were traveling.” Miles doesn't look at him but instead pass him and at the pencil drawings the Matheson clan deemed worthy of staying on the wall behind their desks. The lack of emotion on Miles' face portrays shock and disbelief- like he can't even believe it has happened. Bass feel like he's going to fall out of his chair, vomit all his unsaid words and feelings and choke on them to death. Like his ribcage is cracking under the hard pressure of his breaking heart. Miles reaches out to the front of his desk to steady himself and then drops himself into a heap of despair.

“She's not-” Bass can't form the words to ask the question. There is no way the universe would give him the taste of something so sweet and wonderful that he'd been so blind and unknowingly patient for before ripping it away in an incredibly cruel twist of fate. He feels like his entire world has fallen out of orbit and is quickly descending to crash into the sun. 

“She was alive when they took her and Nora.” The harrowing and wet sounds of tears and unmanly weeping climbs out of Miles' throat. “That was three days ago. I haven't gotten any updates.”

A hiccup from the corner makes Bass' eyes cut to the aide. He looks mournful, like he's lost something precious as well. Dear God, Charlie really had everyone wrapped around her finger, didn't she? 

“They're going to kill her, Bass. They're going to torture her and then they are going to kill her because of who she is. Because of who she is to us. And it's my fault.” Miles continues, shoulders shaking and stumbling through words like a toddler learning sentences. “I sent her...” 

“We can still… it's not your fault.” Bass tries to console him but he can't even stand up from his chair, the shock like the heavy weight of water pulling him under and never letting him resurface. The aide is openly crying and Bass feels the pools of saline gush past his eyelids before he even realizes it gathered. 

And then the commotion in the hall has everyone turning to the door way as a young man in a rider's cloak nearly keels over with exhaustion, pushing a sealed envelope into Miles' shakey hands. 

_____________________________________________

After the ambush several clansmen hold her down as they strip her of her shoelaces, belts, uniform top, and all hidden weapons. If it were just three or four she could take them easily but it feels like there are ten of them pushing her down until she becomes one with the dirt and every time she thrashes and spits and screams they punch and kick and suffocate until her visions goes spotty with gray. She doesn't beg to be released because the possibility is less than slim. These are men from a clan who take what they want and set fire to the things they don't need. Survival doesn't even look like a likelihood at this point. Somewhere beyond her eyesight she can hear Nora screaming and fighting back. Nora manages to reach her once, long enough to run her hand across the puffy edges of a yellow bruised eye before being pulled away and knocked out into silence.

They pull her hair and it is everything she can do to crawl with the pain until she is dragged into a small cage. She has to curl into herself to fit and the claustrophobic rush of anxiety makes her gag until the sounds of her dry heaves makes them chuckle at her like an animal learning a new trick. 

She wakes up without the knowledge of ever passing out when a beefy man with scarred hands and a milky eye pulls her from the cage by her feet. The broken ribs scream in pain and she wants to lay completely still until the ache resides but he takes her to a half-buried pole and ties her tightly to it. Thick lengths of rope swaddle her from her waste to her shoulders and no amount of wiggling will set her free. She has five seconds to notice the buckets of water until someone takes their spot behind her and holds her head still. A worn out t-shirt is thrown over her face and before she can get the first breath in they start pouring sheets of water over her head until she feels like she is drowning on land. Her fingers curl and her legs shake until someone sits on them. All of this before they even demand anything of her. Charlie lets herself black out, asphyxiating on regurgitated water when the sounds of screaming men make it to her ears. 

She feels nimble hands twist and pull at her restraints and the voice of a familiar militia buddy who once hung in the trees with her. There is gunshots, the heat of fire, and the reverb of small explosions shaking her fragile ribs. She know's she's being rescued but she also knows this is her second chance. The first mistake they made was keeping her alive. She's never felt this raw need to avenge herself before. 

Hours later when Charlie and Nora are in the back of a wagon huddled under thick blankets she comes to a decision: she's going to eliminate every single clan threatening to spill into the Monroe territory. Nora reads her mind in the usual uncanny way and sighs but understands and grips her cold hand under the wool blanket. "I don't need them to come and save me. I know now. I know what I want to do." Her throat sounds like a rough rumble of thunder.

Jeremy rides a horse at a steady pace beside them and she can feel his eyes taking in her form, trying to find the young woman the took out half his platoon and had him pressed into the ground within seconds. He's trying to look past the young woman who just got her ass handed to her and survived a near death experience with the souvenirs of a concussion, black eyes, a busted lip, maybe some broken ribs and possible dry drowning if she doesn't die later on tonight. Then his gaze softens and he shrugs his shoulders. There is a rage in her blue eyes that will serve him well and he knows he shouldn't take advantage of it. But she's so willing. 

"They are going to be super pissed, ya know." He says quietly, Charlie smiling at his conceding tone. 

"Yeah but I think you're going to need me to flush a few rats out." She grunts, smile immediately dropping as the wagon suddenly dips over uneven land. Nora curses beside her. Jeremy thinks it's a good time to launch a sparkly projectile at her. It its her chest and falls into the folds of the blanket on her lap. 

"It probably looks prettier on you than a dead guy anyways."

After today she recognizes the hairpin for what it is; her good luck charm.

_____________________________________________

They each breathe a sigh of relief as they skim Jeremy's chicken scratch the rider just brought them.

It reads to not freak out and unclench- Charlie and Nora are safe but they suspect there is a someone back in Philly leaking information to clans near the Plains because there are clansmen waiting for them everywhere they go. It's getting harder to push them away from Monroe territory and it nearly cost Charlie and Nora their lives. The rescue went well and they are going to continue on. He awaits further instruction.

According to Miles the report of her and Nora's capture were short and indistinct. Bass understands instantly that Charlie is not willing to come back just yet. She's had her first real sand and gritty taste of the Infamous Matheson Dumb Luck and Stupidity and it hasn't scared her away, if she's anything like Miles than she's probably starving for it. She is about to find her Baltimore- her Scranton even. And he will help her as much as he can.

“I want to see Duncan Page standing in front of me in five seconds. Go.” Bass practically growls, eyes never leaving Jeremy's note. The aide runs out the door in a flurry without so much as a solute. He hears the sound of the young man's boots hitting the floor faster than he's ever heard anyone run.

He hopes to God Charlie doesn't find out about what he's planning to do right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, ya know those warnings at the top?  
> Those are still in play.


	10. The damage in your heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Militia AU drabble that is no longer a drabble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance for the chain of events this is going to start.

“What do you want out of life?” Charlie breaches the silence of the tent. It's a question she's asked herself several times since she was a child. The answers change every time she thinks about it. Sometimes she thinks she wants to bring peace to the people of the Republic, so that they might finally get a reprieve from the cruel hand fate has gifted them. Some days it is Bass; with his teasing smiles and knowledge and small tokens of affection and tempers. Most of the time she just wants someone to tell her what's right and what's worth sacrificing. Jeremy looks up from his mess of papers composed of letters and written orders and maps. He shares a meaningful look with Nora. She sets aside her array of wires and explosives. 

“That's a loaded question.” Nora comes to sit next to her on her unrolled cot.

“It's just a question. What do you want?” Charlie asks again. Nora's lips thin and she looks down at her dark powder stained hands resting in her folded legs. She is silent for a moment, considering the question in all its pure honesty.

“I want to be home in Philly with Miles.” She says earnestly.

“And what then? Settle down and have a family? Keep training soldiers for the rest of your life? Following me around until you're sure I'm not going to get myself killed?” Charlie's voice rises with each question like a rising storm overcome with worry. The woman looks at her with hard eyes, almost through her, as if she can see what she wants just beyond them in the small tent and candle light. 

“I want you to be happy. I want Bass and Miles' burden of the Republic to disappear. We would be so much happier.” Nora's shoulders sag a bit and Charlie can't help but give her some comfort. She reaches out and takes the older woman's hand, linking their fingers. “I just don't think anyone else is capable of doing what we do. The right way. But I don't want to die for it.”

Jeremy is silent in the moment, examining the two women in front of of him. He doesn't feel like part of the conversation until Charlie turns away from Nora and sets her eyes on him. He knows she wants an answer from him too. Her question has no right or wrong. It's a formula of wants and desires.

“I don't know what I want, kiddo.” He sighs and looks away from her eyes. They've always had a way of figuring things out before anyone knew what was going on. She's so insightful and aware of everything it's unsettling sometimes. “I want to keep you safe.” He studies the flickers of shadows on the tents created by the candle as he tries to recall his greatest wants. “I want to find someone who isn't scared by all the stories they hear about me in the early years before the Republic was made. I want to go to sleep every night and not worry that something bad is going to happen. That someone is going to betray us or invade us. I want my last years on this earth to be happy. Not filled with fighting and running all over the country. I want to fall asleep in a bed and wake up to a better world.” His throat becomes tight and before he can get the chance to get up and storm out of the tent and away from this little pow wow trust circle he feels her arms wrap around him from behind. She buries her face into his back of his shoulders and he dips his head down to kiss the back of her hand before she pulls away.

Charlie settles back down on the bed roll next to a pensive Nora just as a voice from outside the tent clears his throat. Jeremy waits a moment before giving the signal to let the person inside just as Lieutenant Neville- Jason, the boy who followed her around during their childhood, comes in brandishing a sealed envelope. Jeremy, as acting commander, greets him and welcomes him into the tent. Jason's eyes find her immediately and he offers her a smile. She has trouble returning it, her mind frantically searching for reasons why he would be here.

Charlie watches Jeremy as he tears into the letter, breaking the wax insignia seal and unfolding it. His faces is unreadable and that's probably on purpose. The emotions he kept buried as he read it now surfaces to the deep lines of his brow and the pursing of his lips. He folds it back into quarters and tucks it into the inside coat of his uniform.

“Are you going to share with the rest of the class?” Nora starts in on him. For a small moment he looks like he either doesn't know what to say or doesn't want to say it.

“Few things. The class just got bigger. Like twenty people bigger. And we got a transfer student. Also, when we get back to Philadelphia we're all going to take turns yelling at Bass. I'll even be nice and let you go first, Charlie.”

“What?” Charlie asks puzzled. God, Jeremy doesn't make a lick of sense sometimes. How has he managed to live this long? The guy must've been born lucky. Then there is a small commotion just outside the tent. Voices get a bit louder and she suddenly becomes aware of the change in her surroundings. Something feels heavier. The atmosphere is thicker with a new, different kind of tension.

Charlie is on her feet in a matter of seconds and just ready to run through the exit of the tent when Jeremy grabs her by the upper arm in bruising grip. He looks angry and it's a bigger warning than anything that something is about to burn her deeply. 

“Don't-” He says more like a command. “Don't let this… He isn't doing this to hurt you. Remember that. There's a reason for it. Don't say anything in anger that you'll regret later.”

“What the hell is going on, Jer?” She rips her arms out of his grasp with a twisting move that has him letting go instantly to avoid the bones in his wrist from breaking. 

“Let her in Lieutenant.” Jeremy gives Jason the order with a serious nod and the young man immediately disappears from the flap of the tent. He is gone for seconds and when he comes back Charlie bristles at the sight of the woman behind him. She is clad in a leather jacket and ass-kicking boots. Various weapons hang off a belt from her hips and her fiery red hair is pulled back from her face in a high ponytail. Charlie would give her life to smack the annoying smirk currently donning her face. 

“Hello Princess,” Duncan Page greets her acidically, totally ignoring the presences of Jeremy, Nora, and Jason. The three other people dissolve into oblivion as Charlie stares at the last person she would expect to walk into the tent. “I hear you're having some trouble and you might be in need of some help. Well, in your case a fuckton of it.”

Charlie is frozen, still staring at the entrance of the flap when Duncan coolly walks by, shoulder checking her on her way to Jeremy. Her being here feels like a blow to the heart and she is still so deep in in shock she can't even begin to fathom what the hell Bass was thinking by sending that wretched bitch here.

Nora instantly has her by the shoulders and is steering her out of the tent. The men and their voices mix into a muffled cloud of sound but she notices the appearance of several new men amongst Jeremy's platoon. She's pushed down in front of a small fire into a spot next to one of the guys who helped rescue her and climbed trees under her orders to shoot at a clan a few days ago. As she look around she notices the new men are decked like christmas trees with weapons. Everything from guns and knives to small explosives and swords. One guy has a crudely built morning star hanging at his side. 

But none of these things matter right now.

Because Jeremy was right.

She wants to cry and scream at Bass.

And beg him to stop hurting her like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, nobody died.  
> Yet.  
> But oh, look.  
> Bass is being a dick again.


	11. There's things that I have done you never should ever know

The fire pit in front of her is warm but she feels hot and sweaty all over. The sight of Duncan waltzing into the tent stuck on repeat in her head. Charlie does her best to control her breathing in front of the men, they know something is up with her. A few of them quiet their conversations and one of them, totally aware of whatever she's feeling (honestly she can't tell if she wishes she never let Bass close enough to hurt her like this or if she wants to lock him in his office and set it on fire) hands her a flask and pats her back while Nora wonders off back into the tent.

A first it doesn't make sense as to why Duncan is here. Sure, during the formative years of the Republic she helped set the boundary lines between the Republic and it's surroundings such as the Plains Nation and all the war clans that travel it, the Georgia Federation, and for some time part of the Canadas. And then she worked closely with Bass and uncle miles to set up treaties with the larger war clans on the Plains Nation to keep them off Republic land. 

That must be it, why Duncan's here. The lines are dissolving and she's bringing in mercenaries to help establish boundaries again. She's not sure if it's the strong whiskey of the flask or the overwhelming sense or worry in her stomach but she's starting to feel sick. Charlie knows what this means. She remembers reading through the prints her tutors gave her and some of the stories the guards in the hall told her as a child -which they really had no business telling a young child those things. There's either going to be a war between the clans and the militia again or a complete slaughter. 

She tips her head back and drains the rest of the whiskey. It fills her mouth with fire and little streams run down her cheeks from the corners of her mouth. 

“You know you're not suppose to shoot that, right?” The soldier next to her says with a wary eye. She looks at the men around the fire pit. She recognizes most of them by name. Most in the circle followed her command to scale the trees. They all look at her with something similar to respect and she's not really sure if it's because of who she is or who she's related or if she's actually worthy of it. The man who handed her the flask- Jonah, takes it back and stuffs it into a pocket. “There any reason why a bunch of mercs just stomped into camp with the Bedevil of Burlington?”

“The Plaque of Potsdam.” Another soldier whispers across the fire with a snicker.

“The Bitch of Buffalo,” a soldier on her left says under his breath.

“The Cunt of Kingston.” Someone says and the grown next to her actually giggles.“They started running out of terrible things to call her.” He explains with a shrug.

Charlie thinks to herself about what information should be available to the soldiers. She knows things must be worded delicately and accordingly. If they should even be privy to all the things she's picked up in her time with them. That somehow the clans are getting to them before they reach their destinations. That they know what they know before they even know it. Which can only mean one thing. 

There's a rat running among the soldiers. There has to be. The war clans aren't well formed enough to have scouts and direction. God, they're acting less like clans and more… like an army.

“Guess we're having more problems controlling the war clans than we thought.” She tries to sound nonchalant about it but the men look at each other and back to her like they're waiting for an explanation. Which they deserve. If they're going to put their lives on the line for Bass she's going to make sure they know exactly what they're getting into. “I don't know for sure. All I can say is that we're probably not just going to monitor the activities of the war clans any more.” 

“Well, we weren't exactly monitoring them when they were shooting at us.” A few of the men nod at Jonah's words. “Or when they took you.” A shiver runs down the back of her spine despite the stifling temperature of the fire on her front. “We won't let that happen again. You're one of us, Charlie.”

“Okay.” She nods and places a thankful smile on her face. They mean it. The five men that surround her don't treat her like a child who follows them around but as a sister. She sits up and straightens her shoulders. “We need to figure out how the clans are getting to us before we spot them-”

“I smell an unauthorized night recon coming our way.” Jonah sings giddily, his eyes crackling with mischief and fire. “So are we inviting our new friends or is this just Team Fire Pit?”

“We have to come up with a better name.” A man next to Jonah says with a grimace. 

“Just us.” She says, looking around making sure Nora or Jeremy haven't come after her yet. Charlie feels guilty already. The only reason Bass and Miles let her out on the field is probably because Jeremy and Nora were ordered to be at her side at all times. But they can't really do their jobs if they're constantly watching over her like a lost little lamb. And she is anything but a little lamb. She's been preparing for this moment for over half of her life. Every little cunning trick Bass taught her, every ruthless move Miles had her muscles memorize, all the knowledge of weapons and morality Nora poured into her head and every unorthodox (and pretty stupid, if she's honest) takedown she's perfected on Jeremy's men in training. “We meet here at zero hundred. Prepared to be bitched at and dressed down if Colonel Baker or Lieutenant Clayton find out.”

A serious quiet falls on them and Charlie wipes her sweaty hands on the knees of her uniform pants and nods once at Jonah and the four men seated around the flickering fire. The bones in her body betray the formidable set of her shoulders and she's not sure that when she stands her jelly legs are going to keep her upright but she seems to do fine and her balance is impeccable as ever. Before she turns away the five men look up at her and nod back, aware of the urgency, means for secrecy and consequences of this mission.

She turns away, as if she didn't just come up with a plan that if Nora knew about she would surely tie her to a stake and never let her out of her sight. Or ship her back to Philadelphia. But they're are being way too passive right now. At the moment the platoon is nothing more than a bunch of sitting ducks. If Jeremy wants to sit back and wait for the clans to show themselves the militia will suffer a grave loss. As she walks back to the tent she takes in and memorizes all the men who arrived with Duncan. They segregate themselves from the soldiers like outsiders coming into new territory. They are not going to survive if they can't work together. She sees it as a loss because if everyone worked together they would become an unstoppable force. Jeremy works well with the brute and nontraditional methods of mercenaries. And according to the dirt she's dug up on Duncan the woman adheres to a certain moral code. She likes order and efficiency within her ranks and she never backs down. If the woman wasn't such a stone cold bitch who needed her ass kicked until she could no longer hold that stupid smirk Charlie thinks she might find many similarities with Nora.

Right now their best defense is a good offense. He needs to attack and ambush the clans. Because once you attack an unsuspecting opponent they're too busy trying to fight you off to come up with any plan of action. You wear them out until there us nothing left. Which is the perfect plan when you have to go up against the worst society has to offer. You hold nothing back until there is nothing left.

Nora appears at her side when she's just feet away from the tent. She can immediately hear the harsh whispers of Jeremy and Duncan. It's like they want so badly to yell at each other but are trying hard not to let anyone hear their conversation. They sound like a pair of shrieking snakes. Jason stands guard outside the tent, tight lipped with humor crinkling his brown eyes. When they make contact with hers he winks and before she can find an appropriate response to that Nora starts talking.

“I know you're upset,” she pats her on the shoulder in a comforting manner that reminds Charlie of her mother. The pit of guilt in her stomach over her plan grows deeper and darker. “Bass is an asshole. He always has been. But he isn't doing this to hurt you. He… cares about you.” Charlie tries very hard not to roll her eyes at this point. Because sending (your most likely super bitch ex-girlfriend) the one woman she hates most in the world to spend every night and day in close quarters with is not what people who care about other people do. “He's doing this because it's necessary.”

Sure, she recognizes it as necessary. Duncan Page is an asset to the militia. But Charlie still hates her.

“And he also sent Jason to us with this,” She pulls a small envelope out of her vest and she is confused for a second because it's addressed from her uncle. When she tears the edges her eyes instantly recognize Bass' lovely scrawl. It makes her angry that he can send her words but she doesn't have the chance to ball it up and throw it in his face for making her feel like shit.

_Charlie,_

_Don't give up on me._  
_It's hard enough knowing you're out there and I'm stuck in this building where I don't have my eyes on you. But Duncan will protect you. I know it doesn't seem like it because she is a total shrew and likes to stir the pot. She knows what you mean to me though- that means you're safe._  
_Be careful. Don't do anything stupid._  
_I'm counting down the days until you return to me._

_Yours,_  
_Bass_

Her teeth grit as she reads it. At the moment it doesn't really feel like she means anything to him. At the moment she wants to throw his letter into the nearest fire and walk away. But she doesn't. Instead she tucks the note into her inside pocket and follows Nora to another tent to get something to eat and tries very hard not to think about what Bass' reaction will be when he finds out she went off into the middle of the night without Jeremy or Nora. 

He'll probably be super pissed off and trash his office. 

But that's okay. 

_He deserves it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapter in two days, (I was going to say Bitches here because I tend to cuss when I get excited) my lovelies (that seems more appropriate).
> 
> So, this is the the part where things start to get sticky.  
> And sad.


	12. You be my detonator

That night Charlie lies on her mat going over what she told the men just hours earlier. She runs the pad of her thumb along the edges of the jewels in the hairpin as she decides what to do next. Jeremy and Duncan seemed like they want to keep out of sight but still tail the clans while they came up with a solid plan. It makes her stomach sick to think that they're somewhere out there making their move on innocent civilians and she's twirling her thumbs waiting for the next bad thing to happen. 

It's exactly that strain of thought that makes it easy for her to arm herself and slink out of the tent she shares with Nora after she counts two-hundred steady breaths from the woman. She nods once to the guard standing at attention in front of their tent. He smiles back when she excuses herself complaining of a full bladder. 

On the way to the fire pit she runs over the group of soldiers she's meeting up with. Formal introductions weren't necessary because this bunch have been on her radar the very moment they left Philadelphia. There was something special about each of them that attracted her brief attention.

Jonah was the man who pulled her out of the cage earlier that month and he trained with her in Jeremy's platoon. He seemed to have an extensive knowledge of weapons and always seemed to diffuse tense situations with laughter. Abe was one of the first people who climbed the trees without question when she ordered her party to start sniping the clans after the platoon got split up. The way he used his bow made her long for the days Nora taught her how to track a meal and shoot it down. Monty reminded her of Bass in a way that made her feel safe. He was always showing the younger soldiers the right way to do things and he was an absolute terror in the field. When she met Pierce she was immediately intimidated by him. He never left Jonah's side and was always quiet. She learned early on that she mistook his quiet observational skills as silent indifference. And then Bruce. Bruce is possibly the most annoying person in the entire Militia and she doubts that it has anything to do with his young age. Nora says to ignore him because he's somehow invaluable as a munitions expert. But if he stares at her ass one more time she knows he's likely to end up on the ground. Or under it.

It's not a bad group. They all seem different and yet easy to relate to. They gravitate towards one another and she finds herself wanting to be in their company too. When she comes upon the fire pit they are all seated around it just as they were this morning. Bruce notices her first and scoots around to make room for her beside him. She narrows her eyes at him and places herself between Jonah and Pierce instead. 

“So. The second we get out of Militia perimeter we're in the clear. Until then we need to be super careful because if anyone catches us… well it would be a huge dishonor.”

“So are we just tracking and gathering intel?” Jonah asks quietly, his eyes shifting every once in a while to make sure no one in proximity can hear their conversation. She nods in the affirmative. 

“For now. All we want to do is know where they are and maybe where they're going. We have to figure out how they're finding us before we get to them. Assume that someone is watching you at all times. Keep your distance unless engaged.”

They all nod in the affirmative. As far as rankings go Jonah is above her as a lieutenant- the very same as Nora. For some reason the men seem to be taking cues from the both of them. Her status as a cadet is overlooked as if it hardly exists. 

“Do we also use the buddy system? I'll be your buddy if you want, sweetheart.” Bruce whispers with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“I would rather jump off a cliff and slowly die as the wildlife comes to tear off pieces of my paralyzed body.” Charlie hisses across the dying embers at him. Everyone snickers until Jonah hushes them before they gain attention. 

“Alright, shut up you guys. If we're gonna be back before dawn we gotta get a move on.” They gather small packs she hadn't realized were tucked between their boots. They pair off in twos and she plasters herself to Abe's side at the front. He's quiet but they smirk at each other when Bruce puts up a fuss about having to tag along with Monty. 

They go to the weak spot in the perimeter and slip out every ten minutes when the soldier on guard takes apart and checks his gun out of boredom. The ease with which she slips past him angers her and she silently vows to have Jeremy run this guy through the ringer when she gets back. 

Walking through the darkness of the woods is hard when there is only the moonlight as a guide. It's even harder when you're trying to pick up a track of a scout. She leads the group with Abe, eyeing the top canopy of trees for anyone watching and waiting and then the second canopy for any broken limbs. She studies the ground for unnatural breaks in the foliage and shrubbery. After walking for an hour Jonah stops and drops his packs and the others follow in turn before digging through their stuff.

“What are you guys doing?” She asks as they start stripping off their uniform jackets. “And why are you taking your clothes off?”

Monty snorts and rolls his eyes as he pulls a leather jacket out of his pack. The others pull similar dark shirts and jackets out and she suddenly catches on to what they're doing. She's impressed because she clearly didn't think of this before jumping into this crazy plan.

“It's probably not a good idea to run around the woods looking for the anti-Militia clan in our Militia drabs.” Jonah says as he pulls on a dark long sleeved shirt over his undershirt.

“I didn't bring anything.” She admits.

“Which is exactly why I brought you this-” Monty says after pulling out a rolled up ball of leather from his pack. “Smallest one I could find.”

“A leather jacket?” She questions. It's nondescript and black without any of the shiny medals of her uniform. Suddenly she feels how real everything she's about to do is. Some might say their little act of sneaking around against orders is treasonous. Charlie doesn't feel that way. She's going to do whatever it takes to keep the people safe and get these soldiers back to their families as quick as time will allow.

“Put it on. Lets get going.” Jonah orders. 

Charlie unbuckles her belt and strips out of her uniform coat. There is a daunting feeling low in her tummy as she sheds the uniform and rolls it into a ball before stuffing it into Jonah's pack. 

It grows heavier as she slides the jacket on and feels the cold leather sink into her skin. 

“Good-bye Militia Brat, _hello_ Badass.” Monty says with a twinkling blue-eyed grin as he throws his pack against the tree with the others before Pierce and Abe cover it with fallen limbs, brush and pine needles. 

“I've always been a badass.” She says resolutely before spinning on the heel of her boots and continuing through the dark woods. Behind her the men gather their weapons and follow. “Now I just get to to something with it.”

She and Abe lead the men many quiet miles until the sound of drunken laughter reaches their ears. Abe slots an arrow in the bow and the rest of them collectively get their guns ready. They crouch down in the brush and watch the group. A fire roars in the middle of three tents and men stumble drunkenly in between them while a few others sit eating from flagons and fixing weapons. 

According to Pierce there's sixteen of them, excluding whomever is in the small tents which couldn't hold more than three people. A few of them have wrapped themselves with cloths which means they've recently hit a village and gotten hurt in the attack of it. According to Monty they're a bunch of jovial meatheads. 

The plan was to sit and gather information but all of that changes at the audible sound of unintelligible pleading from a hysteric woman as she's dragged out of tent and thrown at the feet of one of the injured men. She sobs as supplies are placed in front of her but she pulls it together when she gets backhanded. Charlie's dark eyes narrow as the woman is forced to tend to the blood soaked arm of the man. 

“This changes things.” Jonah's quiet voice is nearly indiscernible beside her. "Charlie?"

“We can't leave her here.” Shaking her head, her mind avoiding all the things the men have planned for this unfortunate woman. She takes deep breaths calming her nerves and fury. 

“What's your plan?” He asks her. The others look patient as they await orders from her. 

“Well,” Charlie sighs, turning to face them. “Typically we would run this as an extraction.”

“We're not very typical bunch though, are we?” Jonah smiles down at her.

“Nope.” She sets eyes on Abe and his bow. “Think you can hit one of those guys from here?”

“Does the sun rise in the west?” Abe asks proudly.

“Just make sure you get the one with the woman.” Charlie commands before turning to the others. “Bruce- I want you up in the trees taking out anyone that tries to escape. Pierce, you are to go directly to the woman. We don't know what kind of state she's in but we should assume she's hurt. Jonah will cover you. Just do what ever you want Monty.”

“How about I just make sure we get you back in one piece?” He says as he carefully unsheathes the sword at his side, his eyes never leaving the bunch of men gathered around the fire. 

The second the words leave his mouth the sky lights up with a crack followed by a roar in the heavens. Leaves on the trees quiver as small droplets catch and fall to the ground. It's a quick change in the weather to their advantage. A few other men crawl out of the tents to look up at the sky and that's when she points up to the trees signaling Abe and Bruce to start climbing. As they silently gain a higher vantage she crouches back down to study the men and woman. The man is yelling at her to hurry up just as an arrow strikes his chest. The woman looks at him blankly for a moment before stumbling back and crawling away from him before the rest of the men notice. 

At the second crack of lightening she, Monty, Jonah, and Pierce run into the camp attacking the men without a second thought.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Bass is walking the corridors on the way back to his rooms. Another twelve hours at his desk going over reports and commands and pleads from the Militia. He finds himself at Charlie's quarters like he does every night. Jeremy's notes worry him. She's turning into her uncle in the worst of ways. People are taking notice of her skills and the way she holds herself. Everyone is buzzing about the Militia sweetheart running around like some avenging angel with the soldiers. The people already love her and it pleases him so much.

But this long distance is killing him. Just when he realized how much he wants her she goes off looking for something bigger. He wants her here with him but he knows what it feels like when justice and a sense of duty boils in your blood and there's nothing you can do but obey it. It is, after all, how he ended up in this position with Miles. He just wishes she didn't feel that way too. But he finds that he likes her more because of it. It's not decision he'd ever see her making in the future when she was younger. But it fits her so damn well.

When he comes to her door he pauses at the light pooling out from the bottom crack. With a skill perfected over years of sneaking he gently twists the knob and taps the door open a slit to peer inside. Danny is perched on the edge of her bed with one of her favorite childhood novels in his hands. He looks up when Bass pushes the door fully open.

“Hey,” Danny silently greets him.

“Good evening.” Bass nods at him just as he is struck with her scent. It's a stale floral scent that hangs in the air. His heart aches with the familiarity of it as he takes deep breathes of it to fill his lungs. 

Danny regards him carefully with narrowed blue eyes as he places a marker in the book and sets it on the bed beside him. “You know, I overheard the craziest thing this morning.” His voice is light and conversational but Bass knows the kid is not one for small talk. “Why the hell is Duncan with Jeremy's platoon?” Bass sighs and leans against the doorframe.

“Danny, this-”

“Is a good way to get on Charlie's bad side.” Danny says quickly. “In fact this could possibly make her hate you. I don't know if you've noticed but they kind of hate each other. And right now I kind of hate you.”

He can't help but roll his eyes at the teenager in front of him. But, he supposes Danny deserves an explanation. Bass takes a look out to the hallway and at the guard standing at the edge of the stairs. He steps in further and closes the door behind him. He stays just at the edge of the room, knowing if takes any further steps he'll find himself sinking into her bed or snooping through her shelves of books and scholastic journals.

“Duncan is on the front lines because she's essential to the treaties that are currently being broken.”

“So, she's an asset.” Danny crosses his arms over his chest and gives him a disbelieving look.

“She also has ties with several clans in the Plains Nation.” Bass offers, wondering if Danny will make the connection he's sure Charlie will catch on to. 

“She's a liability.” The young man's shoulders sink a bit and his brow furrows as he undoubtedly runs through all the information set in front of him. 

“Duncan is an odd mixture of both.” Bass admits uneasily. He's had a tumultuous relationship with the woman. Nothing ever pans out the way he wants according to her, but the woman's sense of loyalty is unwavering. He's just not sure where her loyalty totally stands.

“Shit,” Danny says quietly to himself. “Do you think Charlie knows?”

“I think Charlie is far more observant than anyone gives her credit for.” His eyes land on the stuffed animal resting between the pillows at the head of her bed. “What she'll do with that information is entirely up to her.”

“She's probably going to do something stupid.” Danny sighs and rubs his palms into weary sleep-deprived eyes.

“Probably. I would expect nothing less.” Bass smirks and turns on his heels. “Get some sleep Danny. It doesn't help her to sit around worrying,” he says before closing the door behind him and continuing down the corridor to climb the stairs up to his rooms.

 

That night he dreams about her dying in a fiery field littered with Militia soldiers as the clouds rain down fat droplets of blood over the dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment to your little heart's desire because October has kicked the shit out of me and November is already looking like a bitch. 
> 
> Also- do you like Team Fire Pit?


	13. I'm taking back the crown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, darlings

One would think after so many years in the militia Jeremy Baker would be a light sleeper. One would also be very wrong. He did not wake as the thunderstorm and whipping wind blew about the camp site. The only thing that woke him up was the moment Nora charged into his tent and shook him awake.

 

“We better be under attack because there is absolutely no good reason to wake me up.” He says groggily. A look at her face in the candle-light has him sitting up in his cot with a scowl. “Are we under attack? It seems too quiet for that.”

 

“Charlie's gone.” She says quietly. He stares at her for a second waiting for the inevitable psych. She just bites her lip and tries to slow down her breathing. 

 

“Are you fucking kidding me? This would be a quality prank because I think I'm going to have a heart attack.” 

 

“I'm not joking. The thunder woke me up and I noticed she wasn't in her cot or on site.” She paces in the small space of his tent while he sits up and ties his boots onto his feet. “I am seconds away from waking everyone and-”

 

“What the hell is going on?” Duncan sweeps into the small tent. Jason follows hot at her heals.

 

“I'm sorry, sir. She insisted on talking to one of you. And then she slapped me when I tried to force her away.” Jason glares at the tall woman as she glances over her shoulder at him with a smarmy look.

 

“It's okay, tiny Neville. Let her be.” Jeremy holds his hand up and shoos him away with a huff of exasperation. 

 

“Would you like to explain to me why your Lieutenant Colonel was poking her head into my boy's tents at the ass crack of dawn? I mean if you're looking for a good time I doubt my men would say no but they're probably too rough for-”

 

“Would you please shut your stupid mouth before more stupid words come out?” Nora rolls her eyes at the woman. Duncan stares at her for a moment before turning to look at Jeremy for an explanation. 

 

“We think Charlie might have taken off sometime last night.”

 

“Taken off to where?” Duncan frowns at the two of them. “There's no towns or any hint of civilization for miles.”

 

“The guard at our tent last night said he saw her when she went to relieve herself. He switched shifts shortly after so he didn't see her come back. He said she left sometime around midnight.” Nora looked down at her boots and pushed a stray lock of rain wet hair behind her ear. Jeremy patted her once on the back before shrugging his uniform jacket over his shoulders.

 

“Do a headcount of the men.” He looked at Duncan. “You too, make sure all your men are accounted for.” She nodded once before turning and stepping out of the tent with a flick of the flap. Nora sighed once and turned to follow her. Just as he began to make his way out of the tent there was shouting near the edge of the perimeter and suddenly they were running out into the rain.

 

Several men on duty had their guns pointed towards the treeline while a few others slowly inched towards the trees with their fingers on the trigger of their guns. Though the moon was bright he couldn't see anything beyond the sheets of rain pouring from the skies. 

 

“Hold your fire!” He yelled, stomping through the ever growing mud to the edge of the perimeter just as a lone figure walked out of the trees with their hands raised above their head. 

 

He notices instantly the matted honey colored hair and opens his mouth to dress her down until three more people walk out of the trees, two of them with their arms wrapped around a small figure in the middle stumbling to place one foot in front of the other. And then, as if that wasn't enough, a tall man is nearly shoved out into the open followed by three other recognizable men. A quick assessment of the man in front leaves Jeremy wondering what the hell happened because he's obviously got his hands tied behind his back and been through the ringer if his ripped shirt and swollen face gives anything away.

 

“Hey Jer. Got a woman who needs some medical attention. Pierce got her settled but I think we should do a thorough check up.” She still has her hands up as she nods to the blonde woman between Jonah and Pierce. “And then we got a guy who killed a couple people in our boundaries a few days ago. I bet he's got a few things to say once you can get him talking.”

 

On his word the men lower their guns and a few of them go back to their posts. Jeremy's eyes cut to the man and then back to Charlie. She has bloodied fists, her hair is a wet curly mess, and for some reason she's wearing a leather jacket. There's also a signature Matheson smirk gracing her lips. She looks more like a clan mercenary than a militia private. One of the doctors on site goes over to the woman and helps the two men usher her to the med tent. 

 

He's torn between yelling at her for nearly giving him a coronary and high five-ing her. 

 

“Sooooo? Prisoner?” He asks her while perusing the man yanking on his restraints until Monty tsks him and slaps him on the back of the head causing the man to growl. 

 

“A clan member completely disregarding the treaties.” Charlie shoots a hard look behind Jeremy's shoulder to wear Duncan stands with her second in command. Before Jeremy can look back to get a read on the other woman's face- becasue he's sure a looked passed between her and Charlie, the young woman starts talking again. “According to the woman he's murderer and a rapist.”

 

God, he can already feel the fucking headache Charlie's giving him shoot all over his brain. This is it- he can tell. 

 

This is the beginning of her Renaissance. 

 

He recalls some of Miles' most ruthless moments and wonders if this is what lies in store for the young Matheson in front of him. Jeremy doesn't say anything yet- he just looks at her when he realizes she's waiting for him to say something. Her lips are in a thin and er brown is set in a determined line. She thinks she's going to be punished. 

 

So he surprises them all in another brilliant Baker maneuver.

 

“I'm glad the stealth mission went over so well. Thankfully it doesn't look like you made a complete mess of things and you even brought a new friend for me to play with. Excellent work, First Lieutenant Matheson.”

 

Charlie visibly frowns at the new ranking. “I'm not a First-”

 

“You are now.” Jeremy says before haughtily walking over to Monty, Abe, Bruce and his new clan prisoner.

 

“Take this man to interrogation and then clean up. We're going to have quite the discussion about tonight's events.”

 

When he turns back around Charlie is stripping off her leather jacket and backpack. Duncan is watching her do so with calculating eyes and Nora has yet to move or say a word towards the girl. Charlie stops for a moment and looks at Duncan one last time before continuing on to her tent. Duncan crosses her arms and slips into the crowd of militia still staring at the scene.

 

As the three men march the prisoner back he pauses next to Nora. She has her eyes on Charlie's figure as she makes her way further into the row of tents.

 

“Not what you were expecting, huh?” He asks quietly.

 

“Nope.”

 

“Any idea how to delicately word this in my next report?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Thinks there's a chance this won't get back to Bass if I don't mention it?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Mother of little baby Jesus- that girl is...”

 

“I know.” Nora turns to face him with a small smirk. “I know.”

 

"Miles is going to have our balls on a silver platter. Or whatever you have that counts for balls."

 

Nora doesn't argue with him or roll her eyes at his stupid choice of words. She just nods her head in complete agreement before letting out a deep, tired sigh and following Charlie's path back to their tent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's taken so so very long to come back. The past few months have been tumultuous at best. I've buried three wonderful people, fell in love, got my heart broken, traveled to another state by myself because I wanted to be alone for a while, and then taught Chris Evans how to llama kiss (fuck, that man is gorgeous). So it's been a difficult, slightly joyful, odd time. But thanks for sticking with me and thank you for writing YOUR stories. They perked me up when I didn't feel like getting out of bed and took my mind off of things.
> 
> You guys are lovely- thanks.


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